Cinderella and Three Knights
by ScipioSmith
Summary: Terra and Aqua unite to care for and protect Cinderella after she is badly wounded by the unversed, and in so doing they both come to love her. But when their comrade Ven is consumed by his own darkness, the two masters may need the help of a maid whose heart shines with purest light. Cinderella/Terra/Aqua OT3
1. Wounded

Wounded

Cinderella turned this way and that, her expression fearful as she stared helplessly at the eight purple imps that surrounded her, chittering and squeaking like hideous parodies of her beloved mice, hopping up and down, feinting towards her with their claws.

She had been so happy when she arrived at the palace, so lost in joy at the fact that it had all turned out alright, that her dream was about to come true in spite of everything her stepmother had done to prevent it that she had scarcely noticed that the palace grounds were completely deserted, with not another carriage in sight, nor any guards or footmen in attendance. When the first of these creatures had appeared she had taken it for some kind of an exotic pet, and spoken softly to it, but after it had slashed at her dress with its claws it had become clear that whatever it was it had no desire to be her friend.

And now she was surrounded by eight of these imps, chittering at her, surrounding her, quivering with anticipation to set on her like a pack of dogs upon the hunt which fall upon the terrified fox and rend her into shreds. There was no escape for Cinderella now, every direction she turned she merely saw more of these creatures.

"Who, who are you?" Cinderella murmured, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Why are you doing this?"

If the creatures understood her, they gave no sign of it. They simply chattered and squeaked, and if they had a language it was not one that Cinderella could comprehend.

Cinderella ducked and put her hands over her head, cringing in fright as she saw at least one of the little monsters tense to leap. She closed her eyes.

There was a ringing whooshing sound, followed by a kind of gloopy pop like bubbles bursting in syrup. What there was not was any of the pain that she had expected to feel.

Tentatively, Cinderella opened her eyes and raised her head. What she saw was enough to make her gasp in shock: the demons had all vanished, and standing before her with his back to Cinderella while he faced the closed doors into the palace, was a tall, muscular young man with brown hair elaborately spiked like a hedgehog in an arrangement that must have taken him hours to achieve each day. He wore a plain black tunic, with shorter sleeves than were usual for a gentleman or any other kind of man that she was aware of, leaving one powerful arm exposed though the other was a covered some kind of ornately stylised armour. Crimson crossbelts embraced his chest and back alike, and he wore a pair of tan trousers with incredibly wide legs, that did almost as good a job at hiding his feet from view as did Cinderella's gown.

He carried an ornate blade in one hand, though the size was very large. Cinderella did not have a great deal of experience with swords, but she felt confident in saying that this weapon that he carried was one of a kind; it almost…it almost looked a little like a key.

"I've met you before," Cinderella murmured, and recently too, for it had not been so very long that this young man had come upon her in the forest, sobbing into her arms, over the destruction of her dress and the apparent ruin of all her dreams, and had comforted her in her grief.

 _Did he follow me here? Did he save me from those things?_

 _Did he follow me to protect me?_

Cinderella felt a blush that had nothing to do with the makeup that the fairy godmother's magic had applied spread to her cheeks.

"I'll take care of them," he growled in his deep voice, giving no indication. "You wait right here."

Cinderella picked up the folds of her gown as she tiptoed closer to him. "Please, may I go with you? I so want to get to the ball." Put like that it sounded a little foolish, perhaps, but…oh, she had been waiting years for this, years for some break in the dull, crushing drudgery that her life had become, years for some moment of joy and happiness that could not be snatched away from her at a moment's notice, and now that moment had come she couldn't bear to see it ruined by whatever those impish creatures were. And besides, at the stroke of twelve the spell would be broken and her gorgeous gown would vanish, and who knew it might take for this mysterious man – Cinderella had never caught his name – to return to her and let her know it was safe.

It might be dangerous, going with him, but Cinderella was prepared to take the risk.

Besides, in a strange way she…she trusted him. She felt safe with him, whatever trials lay ahead.

The young man glanced back at her, his eyes as blue as were her own affixing her. She felt certain that he must have divined, or at least guessed, everything that had been going through her mind, because he hesitated for but a moment before he said, "All right. But stay behind me, or you'll get hurt."

Cinderella gave a brief chuckle at his rather awkward gallantry, smiling and nodding her head though she knew that he could see neither of, now that he had looked away from her again.

"You're not worried?" he asked.

"Didn't you tell me it was important to stay strong?" she replied.

"Oh, um…" He hesitated again, looking slightly awkward and uncomfortable with his head bowed, before he glanced backwards towards her again. His features were sharp, his eyes a bright blue, with a sharp chin and fine high cheekbones. _He really is quite handsome,_ Cinderella thought, and felt a little embarrassed for thinking so a moment later.

"I guess I did," he finished.

Cinderella closed her eyes as she allowed herself a momentary giggle at his expense, before picking up the folds of her silver gown in her gloved hands, and waited for him to lead the way.

"So," he said. "You ready?"

"Yes," Cinderella said, and with that simple word he led her in.

* * *

He sprang forwards, his keyblade appearing in his hand as he slashed at the unversed clustering around her, making the sweet girl cower in terror of them. Her heart was full of light, he understood that now, and he would not allow these misshapen abominations to harm that.

A couple of quick slashes of his blade was all it took to destroy the whole pack of them, but Terra did not turn to face the girl – Cinderella, he thought her name was. It was…a pretty name, though it lacked the charming simplicity of Aqua it had its own beauty to it, a kind of spindly elegance to it that fitted the girl in the gorgeous gown behind him – but stood with his back to her, facing the palace doors with his keyblade drawn in what he confessed was a slightly self-consciously cool posture. Probably too self-conscious to actually seem either cool or brooding; but then considering how she was dressed it was likely that cool meant something different here, if it meant anything at all.

He had seen her dress when it was created, her silver gown with white flourishes, with those odd pouffy sleeves on the shoulders and the long white gloves. It suited her, certainly, but then to him so had the rags that she had been crying in. If that billowing dress was what people wore in this world, then she probably wouldn't know what to make of the way he was standing.

At least no laughter came, only a cry of, "I've met you before."

 _She remembers me._

 _Of course she does, it was only a few minutes ago that we last met._

"I'll take care of them," he declared gruffly. "You wait right here."

He heard her walking towards him. "Please, may I go with you? I so want to get to the ball."

The statement was so strange on its face that he had to look back at her to see if she was serious. What he saw on her face was perfect earnestness…perfect angelic stop that! She meant what she had said. She really did wish to go with him, and brave the perils of the unversed if it meant reaching the ball a little faster.

Terra recalled what he had heard, earlier, about the magic that had given her this dress not lasting for very long. Perhaps she was determined to make the most of the time allotted to her, perhaps she was simply desperate. Perhaps she didn't understand how dangerous the unversed were, and he didn't have to explain it to her. Perhaps she had such faith in his ability to keep her safe.

He would keep her safe; that he vowed. And besides, he rationalised to himself, there was no guarantee that the unversed would not menace her here again once he had gone.

"All right, but stay behind me or you'll get hurt."

He heard her laugh as he turned his attention to the doors once more, though he didn't understand what she was laughing about. Perhaps she really didn't understand the gravity of the situation.

"You're not worried?" he asked.

"Didn't you tell me it was important to stay strong?" she replied.

He had told her that, as it happened, or in as many words. Hearing his words used against him made him stammer for a moment. "Oh, um…" he struggled for a response, trying to work out if a response was needed. He probably should have come up with something more to say, but he was distracted by the shining blue light of her eyes, the fairness of her skin, the pink blush on her cheeks, the stop that! All he managed to say was a rather lame, "I guess I did." A response that rightly set her to giggling at him. He looked away, lest he be distracted by how pretty she looked when she laughed.

"So," he said. "You ready?"

"Yes," Cinderella said, and with that simple word he led her in.

* * *

It did not take Cinderella long to realise that she had made a terrible mistake.

Her young man with the ornate sword did his best to protect her, but there were just so many of all these creatures: the little dark purple imps who chattered as they slashed at her, larger green, goblin-like things with sad red eyes and cruel claws like insects that they used to cut at her. Enormous monsters with bloated stomachs that punched at her, or leapt up into the air to land upon the floor with shockwaves that sent her reeling, what looked like walking jars and boots that burned or kicked her.

It was like something out of a nightmare, there were times when she wanted to think that everything that had happened to her up until now was a dream that had become corrupted by a snack eaten too late, that these chirruping monsters were all the product of a bit of cheese gown down the wrong way, but as she felt the blows land upon her she felt as though she would have woken up by now if this had merely been a nightmare of sleep.

Instead it was a waking nightmare, a corruption and perversion of her dream just as it was finally about to come true. Was she so hated by fate that she would not even be allowed one moment of happiness?

Her young man did his best to protect her, swinging his ornate sword valiantly, slicing through the imps…but there were so many of them and as soon as it seemed that he had cut down the last of them more would appear to assail them. Worse, the creatures were intelligent, one or two of them would attack him and lure him away, and then another would sneak up on her and begin slashing or punching or kicking at her until she cried out in pain, calling out piteously for him to please help her. And he came, he always came, no matter the danger that it put him in with foes in front and behind him, he always came to save her when she called…but he could not save her from all of them.

There seemed to be nothing that she could do to help herself. She tried to stay close to him, and they got around him and attacked her. She stayed back, and they attacked her while they were separated. There were times when it seemed she was almost walking into her enemies.

Cinderella scarcely had time to wonder at the fact that they left no scars on her, no tears on her dress; she felt as though she had been scarred, and kicked, and punched, and burned. Though she could see no blood she could feel it trickling down her arms and legs. She felt so much in pain that she could barely stand, her breath was ragged, her hands trembled as she gripped the folds of her dress between her fingertips.

 _I can't give up. Not now, not when I'm so close. I have to keep going. A strong heart will see me through any darkness._

She saw an opening before her, most of the monsters were destroyed and the corridor was clear leading up to a closed wooden door. She ran for it, knowing that she had to take this chance before more of those creatures arrived. If she could only get through the door and up the stairs then everything would be alright. She wasn't sure why that would be, why they wouldn't just follow her into the ballroom but…but it was hard to think, she was hurting so much and in so many places. She…had try, she couldn't give up.

"Cinderella, wait!"

She barely heard him as she flung open the door…and walked into three of those giant, fat-bellied creatures who loved to throw their fists around. They barred her way to the staircase and as she skidded to a fearful stop they began to pummel her.

Cinderella stood for a moment, enduring their fearful heavy blows like an old tree standing creaking in the face of a stormy wind. Then, she felt her legs buckle beneath her and she began to fall, her head spinning as the carpet rushed to make it.

"Make it stop," she cried as darkness embraced her.

* * *

Terra's heart, his entire body was consumed with cold as she saw Cinderella fall under the fists of those unversed bruisers. _She can't be dead. She can't be dead. Her light can't have gone out of the world._ He roared more fiercely than any prowling lion ever sounded as he cut down the scrapper in front of him, turning the little green insect into shards of sparks, before hurling himself down the corridor and into the three bruisers who loomed so large over her fragile form.

He cut them down in a rage, despatching them quickly one after the other, before kneeling down at Cinderella's side.

"Cinderella," said. "Can you hear me?"

 _She can't be dead._

"Answer me!"

There was no answer. She lay there, unmoving, her hands limp, lying on the ground in her elegant gown like a statue carved to adorn a sarcophagus within a crypt.

 _Don't think like that. She can't be dead. Her shining light cannot have been extinguished._

"Cinderella," he called, half shout, half sob.

He reached out with his unarmoured hand, and caressed her pale cheek. He felt something, a little touch of breath on his knuckles. She was still breathing. She was still alive! He had to help her…somehow. He had to do something. Clearly he couldn't take her to the ball now, and he couldn't just leave her here with the unversed around. He had…he had to get her away from here, he had to keep her safe.

He had to help her to get well again. He wanted her to get well again. He wanted to see her light shine once more.

Silently, Terra scooped Cinderella up in his arms and carried her into the night.

* * *

 _Author's Note: I was inspired to write this after watching a let's play where the LPer kept letting Cinderella die during the escort mission. Next chapter will see Aqua show up._


	2. Before the Fall

Before the Fall

The maid walked forward shyly, holding up the folds of her lilac gown as she approached the steps on which the prince stood silently, waiting, watching her.

He bowed, and yawned as he did so, making no effort to conceal his utter boredom at these proceedings though half the sparkling nobility of the realm was present to witness it. The maiden's face was downcast as she turned around and walked back down the red and gold-trimmed carpet, melting back into the great conclave of notables occupying the ballroom.

Prince Kit yawned again. A very poor turn out tonight, he had to say. He had been promised every eligible maiden, but he could name a half-dozen missing girls and their famillies without even trying. Probably it was all of these monster attacks keeping people at home, but if some had made the effort why couldn't they all? He was the most eligible bachelor in the country, after all, it wasn't as if he wasn't worth braving the terrors of the night for.

He straightened himself up, and tried to reframe his expression into something approaching courteous disinterest as another hopeless girl made her way towards him.

* * *

Near the back of the ballroom, almost but not quite concealed within the shadows gathering at the edges of the room, casting himself a rather lonely shadow upon the marble floor, stood an old man. He was swathed in black, a long dark coat trimmed with silver falling down him as though he were wearing night and starlight on his shoulders. His back was stooped, though the way he held himself and kept his white-gloved hands clasped behind him conspired to allow him to retain his dignity in spite of his infirmity. An observer might have taken him for another aged courtier, some old Polonius hopefully less bereft of wits, the prop of state now in grave need of a prop of his own. And yet, of those who saw him, not a one knew him. No old friends greeted him by name; no poor rogue approached him to talk of court news, who's in, who's out; he laughed not at the gilded butterflies fluttering forward for the royal approval and, finding it not, returning in dejection to their prior place. No, this old man stood alone, and with his yellow eyes he watched all things with the intensity of an owl hunting for field mice in the dead of night.

"If you're waiting for the belle of the ball to make her grand entrance then I'm afraid she's not going to show tonight," the voice from out of the darkness was brash, arrogant, and far too cocky. Alas, that was to be expected of such a creature: born out of darkness, possessing not a single trace of light. That didn't mean that Xehanort had to like it, though.

"You weren't supposed to kill her," Xehanort grumbled, the reassuring timbre of his voice belying the harsh subject matter of his words. He would need the seven hearts of purest light to combine with the thirteen darknesses to reforge the X-blade, if his plans for Vanitas and Ventus should somehow fail. It always paid to have a backup plan, and a backup to the backup.

"What's the big deal?" Vanitas demanded. While Xehanort only threatened to stand in the shadow, the dark creature actually did so, shrouding himself in the darkness away form prying eyes. "I mean, she isn't dead but what if she were? There was a princess of heart before she was born and there'll be one after she's gone. I mean, not when our plans succeed, but otherwise. The light in her heart would just be reborn, right?"

"And we would have to find it again."

"Relax," Vanitas said. "It's not like you're going to need her anyway. Have some faith in me." A flood unversed appeared beside him, manifesting in response to Vanitas' irritation at what he saw as Xehanort's lack of confidence. Vanitas kicked it idly, making in squeak in alarm as it scurried away.

Xehanort did not reply to that. Faith had never been one of his strong suits.

Vanitas looked out of the darkness at the glittering assembly on the ballroom floor. "Monsters running loose, breaking into homes, killing people, and they decide to come to a big fancy party anyway. I doubt they even heard the princess screaming for help."

"If they heard, they wouldn't care," Xehanort replied.

"You're right about that. I can smell the arrogance rising off them, the pride," Vanitas said. "You know, if I were you'd I'd maybe look at getting a different vessel. Your boy Terra's weak. Almost as weak as that loser Ventus. He could barely keep Cinderella alive, let alone get her here in time for her date with destiny."

"Ventus?"

"Terra."

Xehanort scowled. "Where is he now?"

"He grabbed the wounded girl and took off," Vanitas said. "I don't know where he is."

Xehanort scowled in irritation. This had the potential to ruin everything. If Terra had only been strong enough to protect the girl then she would have continued on towards her destiny, where he could have kept an eye on her in case he needed her to further his ends, while Terra would have continued down his own path, the path that Xehanort had laid out for him that ended with his body consumed as a vessel for Xehanort's own soul.

On the other hand, if the princess had died then that would have been unfortunate, but not insurmountable: Vanitas was right, the heart of purest light would have manifested in another girl, one he could have found in time. Meanwhile, tormented by his failure, Terra would probably have been more eager to embrace the darkness within his heart; it was so easy to convince people to embrace darkness if they thought it would help others.

But this…if Terra was delayed here then it could ruin everything…but he didn't _want_ the princess to die just yet either.

What to do…what to do…

Xehanort smiled. "How many unversed do you have in this world?"

"Enough," Vanitas said. A buckle bruiser appeared in response to his sin of pride.

"You don't know what I want from them yet."

"It doesn't matter what you want, I'll take care of it," Vanitas replied, causing the appearance of another buckle bruiser.

"Search this whole world, find Terra and Cinderella," Xehanort commanded.

Vanitas' face was wholly concealed behind his black helmet, but he tilted his head as though he were curious. "And when I find them?"

"Keep them under watch, but don't attack – yet," Xehanort said. "In the meantime, I have something else to consume your energies."

"What?"

Xehanort gestured in front of him, at the bored prince and maidens proud and vain and all glittering arrogance of the nobility. "It occurs to me," he said. "That if Cinderella will not go to the ball and meet her prince, the prince should be made ready to go to Cinderella."

Vanitas chuckled. "You're an evil old man. That must be why I like you so much."

"Are you up to it?"

A third buckle bruiser appeared behind Vanitas. "Am I up to it? Trust me, this won't take very long."

* * *

Prince Kit rolled his eyes as two of the ugliest looking sows that he had ever set his eyes upon prepared to make their way down the crimson carpet to parade themselves for his approval. Honestly, where were all the good ones? Was this really the best the kingdom could scrounge up? All the fair maidens must have been carried off by the monsters, because really this shower was hardly worthy of such a prize as he.

"The mademoiselles-

"Mysterious, dark and seriously cool stranger!"

Kit looked up, his brown eyes widened in amazement at the bizarre sight strutting down the carpet towards him. He was dressed all in black, accented only a little by flashes of blood red, with even his face concealed behind a helmet so black it was a wonder that him who wore it was able to see out of it. It did not look like any helmet Kit had seen before, but then neither did the rest of his get up. It was muscled, like a centurion's breastplate but...more lifelike. Kit almost thought he could see tendons and veins depicted on the attire. It was almost as though this stranger was wearing a second skin of midnight, one that concealed him from the light.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "And what do you want?"

The stranger chuckled. "I do believe that's irritation. Good. I'm glad to know you can be easily riled up."

The prince scowled. "I asked you a question, rogue."

"My name is not important," the stranger replied. Prince Kit felt another flash of irritation run through him as the black-clad stranger ostentatiously turned his back on him. He began to address the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for your patience, rest assured that now I've arrived I won't keep you very long. Let me especially thank all you ladies who lost out earlier tonight - commisserations on your bad luck - but decided to stick around and watch your rivals get humiliated. It really was very good of you to stay here where I could find you."

Kit scowled. "I may not know exactly who you are but you're clearly trespassing. Guards! Guards!"

"Ah, yes, the guards," the stranger said, with mockery in his tone. Kit detested that, he was more used to mocking others than to being mocked. "Everybody listen, I'm sure we'll hear them coming any second now."

Silence reigned in the ballroom over any king or prince. Not a sound was heard, not so much as a fly's footfall made a pitter patter on the stairs.

"You might have noticed," the stranger declared. "If you weren't too busy being deliciously vain and self-absorbed, that the castle of dreams is a little under-staffed tonight. You can thank my friends for that when you seem then in a little bit, but right now..." A sword appeared in the stranger's hand, a strange blade, bizarrely shaped, with a long black shaft and a circular blade of jagged edges like an ornate axe. "Why don't we see if a prince is willing to defend his people when it comes to it?"

Prince Kit gawped in astonishment for a moment before he guffawed with laughter. He wanted to fight him? This vulgar ruffian wanted to fight him, the prince, the best swordsman in all the kingdom?

"What you're feeling now, that's called pride," the stranger murmured. "You know, for a Prince Charming you're really boiling with negative emotions underneath. Pride, hubris, contempt-"

Kit bared his teeth in a snarl.

"And that's anger," the stranger said. "Surrender to that darkness, your highness; I can't promise you'll feel better but I can promise you'll feel more yourself."

Kit growled as he drew his sword. "I don't care who you are, but I swear that you'll regret this!"

"Trust me, if I felt regret you'd know about it by now," the stranger replied, sounding almost...melancholy. A little gibbering creatre appeared beside him, a green goblin-looking imp with red gashes down its face, markings that looked like... tear tracks.

The exalted guests began to murmurin alarm. Kit's eyes widened. "That...that..."

The stranger looked down at the monster beside him. "Oh dear, I think that I've just given the gaem away too early. Lords, ladies and gentlemen, I commend you on your bravery gathering her tonight in the face of so many monster attacks, and thank you for coming together in one place like a buffet for those same monsters." As he spoke, more and more of the creatures that had been terrorising the kingdom recently began to appear around the eges of the ballroom, speaking and hissing and stomping their oversized feet, hopping up and down in the air, forming in masses like barbarian warbands. Several of the large ones blocked the stairs, while every exit from the ballroom was covered by their hordes, constraining the guests who milled this way and that like sheep when the wolves descend down from the hills. And just like wolves, the monsters began to close in.

Kit stumbled backwards. "What are you?"

"I am the dark that lurks within the hearts of men," the stranger said. "I am a monument to all your sins." He raised his blade. "Now, I know that this isn't the dance you were hoping for, but I beg you to indulge me all the same, your highness."

Kit didn't reply. He couldn't seem to find the words to say. His hand trembled as it gripped his sword.

"Too slow!" the stranger snapped, as he surged forward like a river in spate; he beat Kit's sword out of his hand as he slashed across the prince's chest, knocking him to the ground.

Kit gasped. He couldn't see any blood, but he certainly felt as though he should be bleeding. In that moment, as the stranger all in black loomed over him, the prince knew what it was to feel terror.

"So weak," the stranger spat. "So...human. The likes of you would never be worthy to possess a heart of light."

"Why?" Kit mewled, as he heard the screaming begin on the ballroom. "Why are you doing this?"

The stranger chuckled. "Because I want you, Prince Charming. I want all of you. All your bodies, and all the darkness in your soul."

* * *

Aqua's iron boots tapped lightly on the cobblestones as she walked with all the caution of a cat down the main road.

"Where is everyone?" she murmured to herself, as she glanced both left and right.

True, it was night-time, but even so she couldn't believe that it was normal for the town to be this completely deserted. Not another soul was to be seen. All the doors were closed, all the windows were boarded up, not a single light was to be seen. Smothering silence had settled on the world more thoroughly than the dark of night, without even the pinprick lights of the stars to dispel it.

Something was wrong. Although the sense of darkness was not overwhelming here, belying any immediate presence of the evil she - as a Keyblade Master - was sworn to fight, nevertheless Aqua could sense the outer tendrils of its presence lingering nearby, and she had little doubt that there was some villainy behind all this.

She continued to advance slowly down the street, conscious that her sense of darkness' presence was not absolute; she did not want to risk being ambushed by some enemy that she had not detected.

A scream split the air, high pitched and feminine...and followed soon after by the unmistakable insectoid chittering sound of an unversed flood.

Aqua gasped. "There they are!" She flung out her hand to summon her keyblade, but did not even wait for the distinctive tinkling sound to announce the arrival of her weapon, nor wait to feel the hilt in her hand, as she started to run towards the sound of the screaming.

She turned down a sidestreet between a low stone home and an overhanging wooden coach-house, darting between the shadows that fell across the street even as her own shadow blocked out the sliver of moonlight that fell between them. She turned again in response to a second scream, dashing up a narrow alley squashed between a pair of two-storey houses, then wheeled to her right into a small cul-de-sac, at the end of which she saw a girl with long black hair, wearing an apron over a butternut bodice and black skirt, crouching against the wall in terror and shrieking as a half-dozen flood unversed gibbered around her, swiping the air with their claws as they leapt up and down.

 _Why do they always take so long to attack?_ Aqua wondered idly, noting in the back of her mind that reluctance of the unversed to simply get on with it - they seemed to prefer intimidating their victims to getting stuck in - had been the salvation of many of those that they had targeted.

The girl screamed. "Get away from me, you strange blue puppies!"

"Hey!" Aqua yelled, as she settled into a fighting stance. "Over here!"

She leapt athletically into the fray, cartwheeling down the alleyway and into the fight. Instantly the unversed seemed to lose all interest in the victim they had pursued down here and focussed all their attention onto Aqua, as though they could sense that only the keyblade had the power to harm them and were determined to eliminate the most - the only - pressing threat. Aqua would have liked, if only a little, to have declared with cutting contempt that all their efforts in that regard were foredoomed to failure, but the truth was that the fight against six mere flood took longer than it probably ought to have for a keyblade master. Weak and unintelligent they might be, but even threse creatures took a ludicrous number of blows to put them down.

Of course there were other measure of a keyblade master's strength than mere strength, but all the same it rankled with her, this apparent weakness.

Still, she did defeat the flood even if it took her a while, and the girl was saved, and the darkness was defeated. That, in the end, was all that mattered. Boasting about how many enemies one had killed, becoming puffed up with braggodocio about your skills, this was a route to darkness via pride. Equally, becoming consumed by dismay over any percieved weakness in oneself - especially when it led to jealous of the more powerful rather than a resolve to work hard and get stronger - only led to the twin dark dangers of envy and despair. Aqua would not succumb to any of the three: darkness was her enemy, it would have claim upon her; rather she would strike it down with the light that resided both within her keyblade and within her heart wherever she encountered it.

Aqua dismissed her keyblade, and held out one welcoming hand to the girl, even as the girl in question stopped hugging herself in terror, even if she still looked as though she was ready to start screaming again at any moment.

"Are they gone?" she asked, looking around with her big brown eyes as though she expected more unversed to appear from around the corner.

"Yes," Aqua said. "It's okay. You're safe now."

The girl let out an enormous sigh of relief, like an athlete panting for breath at the end of a long journey. She took Aqua's hand and allowed the keyblade master to do the hard work in pulling her up onto her feet. "Oh, thank goodness. And thank you, too! If you hadn't come along...I probably would have been dog meat or something."

Aqua frowned ever so slightly. "You're welcome, but...you do know that they aren't dogs, right?"

"Really? They're not?"

"They're purple," Aqua pointed out.

"Sure, but they've got four legs," the girl replied.

"So do cats."

"Oh, is that what they are?"

"No, they..." Aqua hesitated, wondering how she could explain the unversed given Master Eraqus' prohibition on talking about the existence of the multiverse to the denizens of individual worlds. It was probably best to leave the girl to her strange ideas and change the subject. "Where is everybody else? In this whole town you're the only other person I've seen."

"Everyone else?" the girl asked. "Everyone else is safe at home with their doors blocked and their windows barred while they wait for the boy in the mask and all his moon monsters to go away! That's where I should be, too. It's where I would be if I wasn't so kind-hearted."

"Moon monsters? I thought you thought they were..." Aqua shook her head. "Never mind. You're saying the whole town is hiding from these creatures?"

"Mabye not absolutely everyone," the girl admitted. "I hear the King is holding a grand ball up at the palace and ever eligible maiden is to attend." Her voice assumed a mock aristocratic air for a moment as she feigned curtsying and swooning. "So some of the nobles have gone up there, and I suppose all the guards are going to keep them well-protected. But people like us ought to be battening down the hatches."

"Then why are you out here?"

"Because I'm too nice!" the girl declared, stamping her foot irately. "With monsters running loose I should be locked up somewhere safe, but no, just because a handsome man in baggy trousers begged me to do him a favour: 'Oh, Kitty, Kitty, this poor girl needs some medicine' Why couldn't he go out and brave the monsters since he's the one with the funny sword? Oh no, I have to stay and protect the sick girl. Okay, but who's going to protect me, that's what I want to know?"

"Handsome warrior...with a funny sword," Aqua murmured. "Did he say what his name was?"

Kitty hesitated. "Probably, but that doesn't mean that I remembered it, there's been a lot going on lately as you can guess. Um...I think it was Terrence, or Terrible, or maybe it was-"

"Was it Terra?" Aqua asked.

"Yes!" Kitty cried, sounding almost delighted as she leapt up in the air, pointing excitedly. "Yes, it was Terra! Hey, how did you know that?"

"Terra," Aqua murmured. "What is he doing here?"

"Well, if you're his wife then I'm afraid you're out of luck," Kitty began apologetically. "He brought in this girl to the inn about a day or two ago, said she was badly hurt. I couldn't see any bruises or anything but she was definitely sick; sleeping, you know. She hasn't gotten much better, which is why Terra sent me out all by myself to go get some medicine for her." Kitty held up a brown paper bag. "Though what good was this going to do her if I got ripped apart by monsters, that's what I'd like to know? He stayed with her, to protect her; it's like he thinks she's in more danger than we are for some reason."

Aqua frowned. What girl was this, and why did Terra think she was in danger? For that matter, why had he put his mission on hold to take care of her in the first place. _Could she be one of the princesses of heart? Was she attacked by the unversed?_

She wasn't going to find the answsers standing here; there was only one person who could explain Terra's behaviour.

"Please," she said to Kitty. "Take me to Terra."


End file.
